It'd been years since I last set foot on Aurora Avenue, but the second I turned the corner and saw the familiar storefronts and motels--and the mix of men and women milling about in front of them--I felt my hands begin to shake.

I'd told Cam I didn't regret the things I'd done, but that wasn't exactly true. I liked my life the way it was now, but it hadn't always been that way. I'd needed a place to start, a way to get some food in my stomach and a roof over my head. This street and Pacific South were a godsend for me, once upon a time. A place where a cute boy could get by servicing older guys for maybe a half hour max. Where I could make some quick cash and get on my feet again. At first, blowjobs were all I did, and most of those just took place in a nearby parking lot. The guy would drive me somewhere, unzip his fly, and I'd have him coming in no time at all. He got off, I got paid, and everything was good.

Until it wasn't.

I stuffed my hands deeper into the pockets of my hoodie and looked around. The street wasn't crowded, but people were still clustered together. Two younger men talking to each other, and a group of women who ranged in age from seventeen or eighteen to mid-forties, if I had to guess. I'd been a part of the latter group, despite dealing with different clients. The women who worked this street years ago had taken me in, told me how to spot trouble when it drove up. It wasn't the car. It wasn't even the man himself. It was all in the way he acted.

I'd ignored them once; ignored my own instincts because the guy in question was offering to pay double what I normally got for a BJ. He was a good-looking guy, and some part of me had been stupidly happy not to have to go down on somebody who'd probably have trouble getting it up. All that changed once he got me alone. As in control as I thought I was, as much as I naively believed it was my choice who to leave with, he'd shown me I was nothing. Less than nothing.

Just another piece of property for him to use however he saw fit.

Things were different now. I was picky about my clients, and if they broke any of my rules, they were kicked to the curb. Just like Brett. But the men and women working for scraps on Aurora didn't have that luxury. And if Liz was out here, I knew she'd have it worse. Some of the johns liked being regular customers of the more established women, but there were a lot who still cruised for fresh meat--the closer to "barely legal" the better. My stomach churned just thinking about it, and all I could hope was that she'd gotten the same advice I had--and that she hopefully hadn't ignored it like my dumb ass had.

The small cluster of women--four of them in total, with another sitting on the edge of a planter in the middle of them--were chatting like any group of friends. I walked closer, feeling the two guys staring at me.

"Calm your tits," I told them. "I'm not here for work. I've already got more dick than I can handle."

Somehow I kept my voice from wavering, even managing to give them a cheeky smile. One of the boys smiled back, and I found myself wishing I could stay and talk to them--tell them everything I'd learned, and how there were much safer ways to work. But tonight I was here for Liz, even though I hoped I wouldn’t find her.

"Noah?" a familiar voice asked. "Is that you?"

The woman seated in the group—Vicki—rose to her full height, the street lamp adding a beautiful glow to her dark skin. Full lips were pulled into a smile, amber eyes that had seen way too much taking me in with a look half filled with joy and half with sorrow.

"My favorite mom," I greeted her, opening my arms for the hug I knew was coming.

She was taller than me, and when she embraced me, I felt the crushing weight of everything she'd been through since I last saw her. It was only a few years ago, but it felt like at least a decade had passed.

"What are you doing here, boy?" she asked, smacking my arm. "I thought you were sucking high-rise dick now."

I couldn't help but laugh at her description of my typical clients. She wasn't exactly wrong. "I am. And if you weren't so damn stubborn, you'd let me hook you up with some of that high-rise dick." My voice grew quiet, the tease falling away completely. "It's safer, Vick. A lot safer. I'm making good money, and I don't have to worry about some asshole dumping my body in the fucking alley when he's done with me."

She took my face in her hands, thumbs stroking over my cheeks as she looked at me. "You're a sweet kid. You always were. But you know I've gotta stay here. Nobody else is going to look out for these girls," she said, gesturing behind her.

I hated that she was right. Vicki had become the mother so many of us never had, and I knew that was why she kept working the streets. She did everything in her power to make sure her girls--and her guys--stayed safe. Even if it meant risking herself on the more persistent johns who couldn't take a hint. But it was those traits exactly that made me think maybe Liz had made it through okay. So far.

"That's actually why I'm here," I told her. "I’m looking for a new girl. I’m not sure if she’s working down here or just meeting johns at the hotel, or what."

I honestly hoped she wasn’t doing either, but most of the less experienced guys who contacted the girls they saw in ads preferred to do their hookups out of one of these fleabag motels.

Vicki considered my question. “I’ve only seen one new girl, and only once. Kimmie. Over at the Holiday Inn."

“Can we take a look?”

We walked over there, catching up as we went. From a distance, the parking lot looked mostly empty. But as we got closer, I saw someone waiting out front, just out of view of the security camera.

“That’s her,” Vicki confirmed.

“Did you give her the rundown already?” I asked.

“As much as I could.”

The girl’s hair was dyed a perfect, perky bleached blonde and she was wearing clothes that looked a little small on her, but I knew it was the senator's daughter. Wide green eyes looked me over, and instantly I knew she was trying to decide if I was a threat. If she had that on lock, she'd already been exposed to the sleazier types that made their way out here.

"Hey, Kimmie," I said with a smile as I approached. "I'm Noah. I was one of Vicki's ducklings back in the day."

I extended a hand to the girl, and she took it after a moment's hesitation. The smile that flitted across her features was one I instantly recognized as forced. God, I hated this. I was starting to get Cam's desire to just swoop in and take her away from all this. Only Liz was just a girl, and she had no idea what she was getting into.

"Now he's all grown up," Vicki said, "doesn't need me anymore."

"You know that's a lie, Miss V. I'll always need my mama bear."

Liz seemed like she was about to say something, but the sound of a car slowing down stopped her. The brakes squeaked as they gripped the pavement, and the whir of the automatic windows made my stomach clench as I remembered leaning over the car door and looking into the eyes of a stranger who held my fate completely in his hands.

"This the guy you’re waiting on?” Vicki asked.

Liz squinted, trying to make out the car. “I… No, I don’t think so. But I can—”

"No, you sure as hell won't. I'll take care of it. You stay here with Noah, sweetie."

Liz and I both watched as Vicki sauntered over to the car, putting on her best performance. She leaned over the door, let him have a full view of her tits, stroked his ego and made promises until he unlocked the passenger side door. She turned to us briefly before arranging her skirts and getting in, and I could feel the underlying current of unease.

This was the type of man she'd protected me and lots of others from in the past. She was doing the same thing for Liz now, and I hated that she'd probably be stuck doing it for years more. Until she was "too old" to pull it off, probably. But in the end, it was her choice, and I was all about people having the freedom to choose what they wanted to do and how they wanted to make their money. It just so happened that Vicki had more altruistic reasons than most of us.

"Hey, are you hungry?" I asked Liz, trying to block out the image of that car driving away with Vicki. "There's a sandwich shop a few blocks from here that has some fucking amazing chicken parm."

Liz looked around, obviously still expecting whoever had contacted her. "I really can't..."

"My treat," I said, giving her my most charming smile. The one I'd used to get out of trouble more times than I could count.

Liz looked up at me, and my heart broke a little. She was so lost. I could see it in her eyes. This was probably what Cam thought I was like--broken down, self-esteem shattered, so desperate for approval that I had to get it anywhere I could. He was wrong about most of it, but I knew it all applied to Liz. After so long working, it was easy to tell.

"Just ghost him. If he shows up and you aren’t here, I guarantee he’ll lose your contact info."

That got her to grudgingly agree, though she checked her phone once before joining me. The place I took her to was a decent enough walk away that neither of us would attract attention. It'd always been a little crazy to me that some parts of the city just seemed to exist totally outside of the others. This one had always been a haven for me, and even though their food was more expensive than I could really afford back then, I'd always splurged after a rough night.

The owner knew me and had my order called back before I even got up to the register. Liz tried to get away with just ordering the cheapest sandwich on the menu, but I convinced her to get something more substantial. A few minutes later, I was carrying a tray loaded down with chips, drinks, and two eight-inch subs on freshly toasted bread that smelled like heaven.

I set us up at a quiet table in the corner, figuring that might be easier for her. She'd relaxed a little, and the delight in her eyes when she unwrapped her freshly-made meatball sub made me grin.

"Girl, I know that feel." I unwrapped my own chicken parm and took in a deep breath of Italian spices, marinara, and just the right mix of cheese. My mouth started to water before I'd even taken a bite. "God, it's been too long."

I indulged, partly for Liz's sake, but partly for my own. The bread and chicken and cheese blended together into one amazing bite, and I had to stop myself from moaning in pleasure. I must have let out some kind of sound, though, because Liz giggled. I waggled my brows playfully, and reached out with my elbow to nudge her to eat her own sub.

We just enjoyed the meal for a little while. I didn't pester her with all of the questions running through my mind, because I knew how defensive I would've gotten if someone did that shit to me. Once I'd downed half of my chicken parm, though, I took a sip of my drink and tried to find some common ground.

"So when'd you meet Miss V?"

Liz looked startled, and I saw her retreat into herself a little before she answered. "A week ago."

"I was working for... three months I think? Before I let her help me out," I said with a gentle smile, hoping Liz would see I wasn't a threat. As much as some part of me wanted to protect her, I wasn't here to tell her to stop doing what she was doing.

We chatted about Vicki for a bit. I told Liz how she convinced me to let her take me under her wing, imitating V all the while. That went over well, and the quiet girl sitting across from me eventually started to open up, sharing her own story.

"She didn't really give me a choice," Liz added after downing some of her chips. "Once she found out I was gay..." She waved a hand in an exaggerated way to signal it was all over, then seemed to realize what she'd said.

I knew I probably wasn't helping matters any, because the second those words came out of her mouth, my heart squeezed in my chest. I never thought I'd had any advantages out here beyond being a cute twink who could play up the role people expected of a more "femme" guy. At least I got to service men, though. The number of options for a gay woman were insanely low, and Liz was having to do something she didn't even enjoy just to make ends meet.

I wanted to ask her why, but I knew that would scare her off. My mind had already conjured a story, anyway. She was the daughter of a senator who was known for running on a fundamentalist Christian platform. He was a family man. Strong, traditional values and all that bullshit that was basically code for anti-LGBT. It wasn't hard to guess why she was out here, and my heart ached for her.

"I'm glad she's looking out for you," I managed, pulling up a smile to go with it. My drink was mostly ice now, and the straw grabbed a bunch of air when I sucked on it. A shake of the cup helped redistribute things well enough for now. "Just make sure you listen. She's been at this for a while, and she knows better than you. Trust me on that."

It was the only advice I felt comfortable giving. As much as I wanted to heap other lessons on her--including the fact that she could find at the very least couples looking for a third on some looser dating sites--I held back. I was out here for Grizz and the guys, not my own interests. They’d need confirmation that this was definitely Liz Billings, and I could already give them that.

But as we finished up, I knew I couldn't just leave it at that. There was no way I'd be able to sleep tonight if I didn't do something. So I pulled out my phone and opened up my contacts.

"I have a client to take care of, but I want you to have my number, if that's okay with you." I tapped on my own info and turned the phone so she could see it.

Liz stared at it for a long moment, drawing her lip between her teeth before she pulled a flip phone from her pocket. I held my breath as she entered my number, and stopped myself from asking for hers.

It was best not to push her too much. If she found out I had any ties to her father--who I was beginning to think was the reason she was out here--she wouldn't trust me at all.

"Thanks," she said quietly, closing the phone. Once it was safely stowed away, she held up her drink. "For all of this. People out here have been so nice."

The hint of tears threatened to spill over her eyes, and all I wanted was to reach across the table and pull her into a hug. I'd leave that to Vicki for now. At least I could take comfort in the fact that Liz had someone looking out for her.

"Don't hesitate, okay? Day or night. If you need me for anything, you call." I met her gaze, letting the weight of my words settle in.

She looked away from me, but nodded just the same. "I should get back."

Not wanting to press my luck, I didn't offer up any resistance. Instead, I cleaned up our trash and went to drop off the tray, walking to the door where Liz was waiting. We stepped out together, onto a street where drunk college kids milled about, oblivious to what was going on only a few blocks away.

"Thanks, Noah," she said, brushing a strand of dyed hair behind her ear. Her head was ducked down, like she was trying to keep people from seeing her. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too," I said with a smile, stuffing my hands back in my pockets to avoid the urge to reach for her and pull her into a tight hug.

I wanted to believe it was her choice, just like it'd been mine. But both of those things were a lie, and I knew circumstance had led her out here the same as it had me. There was a chance she'd make a better life for herself like I had, but there was also a chance of much worse happening. If playing nice with Grizz and Cam was the way to stop that, then I had to keep my distance for now.

Following my own advice, I let her walk back on her own, and even turned in the opposite direction. I was so lost in my thoughts I barely noticed the world around me. That was until I felt the cold prickle of dread on the back of my neck. Turning to look, I saw an all too familiar face watching me from across the street.

Brett.

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath, and started walking.

I knew he was following me. I could feel it as he crossed the street. And even though I knew there was no way he could have made up that much ground, I swore I could also feel his breath on the back of my neck, his hands reaching out to grab me and pull me to him in that same, vice-like way he did the other night.

Working the streets made me feel powerless once, but I wasn't going to let anyone else make me feel that way again. I wasn't some scared kid who had nothing and no one to turn to, and Brett--for all he thought of himself--wasn't a john who could ruin or even end my life with the smallest action. I wasn't afraid of him. I wasn't.

And if I kept telling myself that lie, I might eventually believe it.

"Noah. Baby. We need to talk."

His voice came out in hurried breaths as he rushed to catch up with me. Not wanting to make a huge scene, I drew a breath in through my nose and balled my hands into fists at my side. "We really don't."

"I know I was an asshole before, but I didn't mean it. We can go back to the way things were. We--" he jogged until he passed me, then put himself in my way, "Hey, listen to me, dammit! We can just go back to seeing each other a couple times a week. And when you're more comfortable..."

He reached for me, and I reeled back so quickly I nearly knocked into a passerby. Muttering a "sorry," I kept my distance from Brett. He honestly hadn't scared me that much before, but being out here again just brought up so many bad memories, and so many times when I'd felt utterly helpless. I wasn't going to let anyone make me feel that way again.

"Did you come out here looking for me, Brett? Or did you follow me here? Because either way, I--"

He stepped closer, his eyes turning dark, his expression a lot more menacing than I'd ever seen from him. I took a step back, but still felt cornered.

"You'll what? Call the cops? File a restraining order?" he sneered.

My short nails dug into my palms as I tried to keep myself from forcibly pushing him away. The streets weren't that crowded, but a couple people had taken notice of the tension in the air. A young couple watched us with concern, and I smiled through my anger, biting out my words.

"I don't need the cops to deal with you, but it's precious you think that."

"Noah--" he started, his hand reaching for mine like the strike of a venomous snake.

If that hadn't drawn enough attention to us, the way I pulled back from him definitely did. The young woman with ginger hair and adorable freckles left her girlfriend's side to intervene.

"Hey. Asshole. He doesn't want to talk to you," the woman asserted, becoming one of my new favorite people.

She looked all of one hundred pounds soaking wet, but her presence was enough to make Brett back off. He snorted like a pissed off horse, then shook his head and stepped away. When he turned on his heel and started walking, I let out a breath I'd been holding for way too long. I wasn't afraid of Brett. But that didn't mean I wanted to deal with him.

Thanking my lesbian hero, I found a nice, public place far away from Aurora to call for a ride back to my apartment, hoping a nice hot shower would take away everything I'd seen--and felt--today.